


favors

by gayrefrain



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake Dating, Heavy Themes, Mentions of Pedophilia, Panic Attacks, Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, a bit of it, a weird mishmash of canon, almost like a five times 1 time fic but WAY less organized, and death, but nothing explicit and nothing more than canon, i tried to be british writing this but i am but an american
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayrefrain/pseuds/gayrefrain
Summary: Ellie and Hardy ask each other for parenting favors, and slowly fall in love.





	favors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShirleyAnn66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/gifts).

> [A tumblr post](https://penfairy.tumblr.com/post/158085216734/hardy-miller-boy-isnt-it-difficult-being-a) said Hardy and Ellie could help each other with parenting and I ran with it.
> 
> Dedicated to @ShirleyAnn66 because I stayed until 3am reading their fanfic and I needed to thank them.
> 
> Song lyrics: “Dirty Laundry” by All Time Low
> 
> Also, I have no idea when this takes place in canon just go with it.

_Sometimes I trip over your history _

It started as a simple favor.

Ellie Miller didn’t really like to ask for help, but she had nowhere else to turn to. Her sons had no paternal figure, not one she wanted them to turn to. She couldn’t ask her father, that would be mortifying for all involved. She couldn’t ask the vicar, because... dear Lord. 

She only had one person to ask. And that pissed her off. 

Since it mortified her beyond belief, she decided to bite the bullet and accosted him by the tea in the break room. 

“Hey-o, how are those reports-”

“Tom is watching porn,” She blurted.

She didn’t mean to bite the bullet _ that _ hard.

Alec Hardy, so startled, spilled the tea on his hand. “Shite- What are you on about?” He demanded.

Ellie’s cheeks burned, “Tom is watching- Don’t make me say it again.” 

He stared at her with incredulous brown eyes as he wiped at his hand with one of the station’s spare dish towels. “I barely heard you, Miller. So I’m going to need you to repeat yourself.” 

She was going to damn him to hell, even if he was her last hope. “I said, Tom’s been watching pornography.” She said the offending word with a hushed whisper.

Those brown eyes went wide in understanding, “Oh.” 

“Yes, _ oh_,” She hissed. “I caught him, and it was awful-”

Hardy shifted and looked around, “It’s not the end of the world.”

“How?” She beseeched him. “How do I know this is not a slippery slope.”

“Are we really talking about this here?”

“I don’t know what else to do,” She said. “I truly don’t. I just want to make sure he’s okay and good and not like-” She cut herself off. But both of them knew who she was talking about.

“Of course, Miller,” He said. His voice was soft, and that made it worse. “When... er. How should I do it?”

“Come to dinner tonight, I’ll even make you your own salad,” She said.

And so he did. That night, Hardy went over with just a bottle of wine, figuring both he and Miller would need one.

Her hair was down, and the salad was good, at least. Fred made a mess in his high-chair, and Tom was pushing around his vegetables like a sullen teenager, which he figured was apt, the entire time.

“C’mon, Fred, it’s time for a bath. You boys mind doing the dishes for me?” Awkwardly, Miller managed to scoop up the toddler and escape upstairs. 

It was just Hardy and Tom. Hardy collected all the dishes as Tom ran the water.

“She told you, didn’t she?” Tom said, still not looking him in the eye, only looking at the full sink.

“Aye, she did,” He was just grateful the kid was talking.

Tom huffed, “I don’t see the big deal. All my mates are doin’ it.”

Willfully, he bit back on the old parental standby. “Why did you want to, then?”

The kid didn’t say anything for a moment, and he worried he said the wrong thing. Then he mumbled something. Mumblin’ Millers, he couldn’t understand the damn lot of them. 

“Sorry, Tom, what was that?”

“I was curious,” He repeated, slightly more clearly, as he scrubbed salad dressing off a dish. “They all keep talking about breasts and stuff, and I wanted to see what the big deal was.”

Hardy couldn’t fault him that as he toweled off the plate. “I remember your age. We didn’t have videos as available, we had magazines. My friends gave me one and I gave it a look.”

“What’d you think?” He finally looked up at him. 

Hardy took the time to formulate a response, oddly feeling at the other end of an interrogation. “Like you, I hadn’t given it much thought. But I guess I liked what I saw. Women are beautiful, and all.”

Tom nodded. “I looked at- Don’t tell Mum, but I looked at ones with boys too.”

Hardy nodded back, slower. “Mind if I ask why?”

“Curious,” He repeated. “I mean, one of my best mates is gay, and another is bi. I wanted to know what I was, and so I looked at both.”

“Did you figure it out?”

Tom made a face as he scrubbed some roast off, “I was distracted by the noises the whole time. They’re all so loud.”

Hardy manfully restricted a laugh. “Aye, that’s fair.”

“I didn’t figure much out,” Tom looked down at his hands, scrubbing a cup with a lot more force than necessary. “I’m not really sure what I like.”

“That’s the cool thing about being young,” Hardy tried to reassure. “You have all the time in the world to explore. That’s not a bad thing that you don’t know yet.”

“But all my friends know! They all get it, they can’t stop talking about big tits and such.”

Hardy couldn’t stop a wince that time. “Let me phrase it like this. Have you ever been hurt playing football? Hit your knee or toe?”

Tom nodded, looking up at him, like he was trying to figure out where this was going.

“But you didn’t want your friends to make fun of you, so you pretended it didn’t hurt?”

Tom quirked his lips up as he nodded again. 

“Growing up as a boy your age is kind of like that. You posture a bit, pretend you know more than you do. But I promise ya, all of your friends are just as clueless as you.”

Tom full-smiled this time. “Thanks, Mr. Hardy.”

“Anytime, Tom.”

There was a silence, then Tom said, smiling falling off his face, “My mum’s worried about me.”

“That’s the other part of it, that never stops,” He said.

“I want to explain it to her, honest,” He said. “But... I can’t _ talk _ to her about this.”

“I know, talking with mums about this stuff just goes against the grain. But if you ever need to, you can talk to me.” He pulled out his mobile, drying his soapy hands on his sweater. “Here, give me your number. You can text me anytime. And, unless you’re in danger, I promise to keep it from your mum.”

“Really?"

“Really. You just have to be honest with me. Is that fair?”

Tom nodded and rattled off the numbers. “Can I go to my room now?”

“Yeah, I got the rest of it, ta,” Hardy felt weird dismissing him, but at least the conversation was over.

Within five minutes, Miller was at his side as he continued through the dishes. “Is my son a deviant?”

“No, he’s a great kid,” He was quick to reassure. “Some boys are just curious.”

She shifted uncomfortably, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Only then did she relax. “Really, thank you, Alec. I owe you one. I know it had to have been awkward.”

He didn’t deny that. “Tom’s a great kid,” He said again instead. “Trust that. But he’ll screw up, they all will.”

“Thanks. And here, I’ll get the rest of the dishes, I feel bad saddling you with ‘em.”

“No, you made the meal, I can clean it,” He resisted, even going so far to tilt his shoulder into her advancing hands as she goes to snatch the plate from his grip. 

“Fine then,” She almost griped. “I’ll dry.”

They continued doing the dishes in tandem, almost as if it were a competition. 

+

_ I don't believe in saints/They never make mistakes _

Next time, it was Hardy’s turn, and he was just as reluctant to ask. Daisy had just gotten a boyfriend. His ex-wife’s only advice had been that they need to use protection, and that had just nearly given him another heart attack.

He remembered his talk with Miller’s son Tom, and he wondered if he could inspire a sense of quid pro quo and make her talk to Daisy.

Because he _ tried _ while Daisy was spending her spring hols with him, but she shut him down. 

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I can’t, nope,” She shook her head the time he tested it, even going so far to use a Cop Voice. “We are _ not _talking about this. Literally anything else.”

So when he went to work with Miller the next day, he stormed up to her desk.

“What’s got you in a mood?”

“I need a favor.”

She looked up from her paperwork. “Yeah, and? Do you need tea? Because I’m not your mother or your secretary.”

“I need you to talk to Daisy,” He said. “She’s seeing some _ boy _ and she won’t talk to me about it.”

“And what makes you think she’ll talk to me?” That was a fair thing for Miller to demand. Daisy and her had only met a handful of times due to Tess’s custody. But ever since Daisy made it clear she wants both in her life, he’s been making sure to show up. And those involved in his life have a way of seeping over. 

“She admires you. She’s glad I have ‘strong female roles models’ and the like,” He said. “I talk to her about you.”

“Really?” That seemed to be the thing that took her back the most.

“Yah, even though I told her about your ridiculous orange coat.”

She smacked him on the shoulder for that, and he knew he deserved it. “Please. It can be the favor you owe me.”

“I do like clearing up debts,” She said thoughtfully. “Plus, Daisy’s a sweet girl. Sure, Hardy.”

In two weekends, Daisy came by. After a big hug and a fun dinner in town, Hardy and Daisy were curled up on the sofa. “I have a friend coming by tonight.”

“Which one? There are scores of them,” She didn’t look away from the telly but he saw her lips tilt up into a smile.

He flicked her nose for her trouble. “Miller.”

She perked up. “Oh, Ellie? Great, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Yeah, she’d been wanting to see you too.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. He pushed off the sofa to get it, seeing Miller standing there in her ridiculous coat to fight the chill and holding a box of chocolates.

“Welcome, Miller, you didn’t have to bring those for me.”

She held them close to her chest. “I didn’t, they’re for me and Daisy. Obviously, you’ve never had girl talk before.”

“Obviously,” He muttered back at her, but held the door open wider for her to come in.

Miller walked into his flat, an area she only visits when they’ve been working too late on a case. When they meandered into the living room, Miller greeted Daisy with a warm, “Heya, Daisy” and then turned to him sharply. 

“Awright, Hardy, out.”

“What?” He recoiled.

“Go and grab a drink at a pub or something. Be back in no less than two hours.”

“Two hours- This is _ my _flat.”

“If I’m going to girl talk with Daisy, I can’t do it knowing you’re breathing down my neck.”

He gave her a glare. “Are you serious, Miller?”

“Absolutely, now get out,” She gave a glare as good as she got. Actually, probably better, since that was when he muttered about and threw a coat on before disappearing from the flat.

With him gone, Ellie turned to Daisy with a smile. “Sorry to be so apparent, but why be deceitful, you know?”

“I have no idea, actually,” The girl looked slightly put off, but also amused. She’d take it.

“Your da asked me to talk to you,” She said. “Apparently, you’ve been seeing a boy.”

“My god, he’s so obnoxious,” Daisy scrunched her nose in a way that instantly reminded her of her father.

“Yeah, a bit, but let’s stick with _ overprotective _ for now,” She said. “Now, I could poke and prod you about it, but I’m not going to force you to talk to me about anything.”

That got her fairly surprised. “Really?”

“Really. I’m just going to tell you a story.”

Daisy kicked her head back, but Ellie was not deterred.

“Oh, come off it, it’s not too bad,” She flopped next to the teenager on the sofa. The girl pulled her legs up to her chest, giving her some room. “When I was about your age, I was seeing a boy. Harry Elsing. He was mad cute, and had a dimple on the side of his face.” She pointed to the spot. “And I was hopelessly in love with him. One day, at a party, he made a go at me. I was slightly drunk, he was slightly drunk. We hadn’t done anything of the sort before. But then were alone in one of the bedrooms, and he groped at me.”

Daisy didn’t say anything, but she was listening.

“And I didn’t want to that. And told him so, but he just grabbed the other one. So I punched him in the nose.”

Daisy gasped in utter glee. “No! Really?”

“Yes,” She tried to bite back on the happy rush the reaction got from her, because she was trying to be serious. “It was broken, and then he broke up with me. And I was sad at first, but then I realized I was pretty glad to be able to protect myself. So, instead of prodding you about a boy you’re seeing, I’m going to teach you self-defense.”

“I know a bit... But it has been a while. After everything with Pippa, Mum and Dad wanted me to know what to do if an intruder attacks. But what do I do if it’s someone I know?”

Happy to be helpful, Ellie went over all the defensive maneuvers she knew. How to strike with elbows, what to do if thrust against a wall or a bed, the most sensitive spots on the body.

After near twenty minutes, they both sat on the sofa, slightly out of breath. “He hasn’t done anything like what you said.”

“Who?”

“Eric, the boy,” Daisy said with a flush in her cheeks. “He’s slightly older, only four months, but it feels like he knows everything and I know so little.”

“Is he pressuring you?” She thought of places to hide a dead body because, as soon as she told Hardy, he would kill him.

She shook her head immediately. “No, not at all. But... I’m pressuring me. I guess, I think? All my friends are doing stuff, and I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to, truly,” Ellie turned to her. “That is a big decision. And you’re totally fine to want to wait.”

“What if he won’t wait for me?”

“Then he’s a wanker, and not worth your spit,” Ellie poked her shoulder, causing Daisy to smile. “The good ones wait, Daisy.” 

“Thanks, Ellie,” The young girl sighed. “You know what this whole thing reminds me of?” 

“What?”

“That Sandra Bullock movie,” Daisy said. “That one with the beauty pageant.”

“Oh, never seen it.”

The teenager looked at her in shock. “You’ve never seen it!” 

Apparently, this was sinful. And the girl immediately found a copy on streaming and pulled it up, saying that, as a female copper, this was “regulation viewing.”

Less than an hour later, when Hardy was coming back as Sandra Bullock was singing “you think I’m gorgeous... you want to kiss me...”, he paused at the sight of Ellie and Daisy curled up on the couch eating chocolates.

“What the hell are you two watching?”

“_Miss Congeniality_,” They said at once. “Come, join us,” Daisy patted to the spot on her free side, throwing up the blanket to invite him in. 

He wanted to pull Miller aside and demand any and all intel, but they looked so cozy and, even with the pacemaker, one Guinness takes it out of him. So he kicked off his shoes and joined the two women to watch the rest of the movie.

By the climatic scene, Daisy was asleep, so they finished the movie on their own. As the credits rolled, Miller stretchedand was about to commend him on his patience when he turned to her.

“Awright, what’d you two talk about then?”

“His name is Eric, and he has a motorcycle and _ scores _ of tattoos and-” Ellie could barely get the rest of without giggling as Hardy’s face turned red. “Oh, of course I’m taking the piss!”

“Jesus, Miller,” He shook his head, then paused in movements as Daisy snuggled her face into his shoulder. “Now, seriously.”

“His name _ is _ Eric, he’s only a bit older than her, and she swears up and down he’s not pressuring her,” She said. “I think she’s happy. But, just in case, I taught her some self-defense moves.”

He exhaled a breath in relief, “Thanks, Miller.”

“Anytime, she’s a sweetheart,” She moved some blonde hair out of her face so it wouldn’t get caught in her mouth. “Probably a lot more fun than talking about pornography.”

“Hmm?” Of course, that’s when Daisy decided to wake. 

“Up you go, darling, time for bed,” Hardy, probably too weak still to carry her properly like when she was a wee one, hooked his arm around her and lead her off to her room. 

Miller decided to spread out across the sofa, still warm from their body heat. Ugh, she did _ not _ want to get up and go off to the hotel. 

Her eyes were closed, but she could tell when he flicked the lights off. She opened them to say, “Oi, hold on, I’ll get up.”

“Just stay the night, Miller, ‘least I can do.”

“No...” She tried to demur, but the sofa was surprisingly comfortable. Someone like Hardy probably prepared for the eventuality of falling asleep on the sofa, and kept that in mind in couch purchases. She felt him pat her shoulder, and that was the last sensation before sleep overtook her.

+

_ Who am I to tell you that you need to change? _

For Tom’s English literature class, the students had to perform a monologue from Hamlet for his final grade, and Ellie _ hated _ reading Shakespeare’s tragedies. They were so _ morose _ and _ exhausting. _ Give her _ Much Ado _ or _ As You Like It, _she wanted to laugh about dick puns.

It was just before summer. Hardy had decided to spend the season in Broadchurch near the Millers since Daisy decided to tag along. She hoped they would be able to keep all the kids occupied.

“This is so boring,” Tom whined, digging his head in his hands. “I don’t even know what he means!” 

“I know, it’s pompous,” Ellie responded, eating crisps as she finished feeding Fred. Hardy was visiting again for dinner, but he had been taking a shower after a long day going over a cold case.

“What are you lot groaning on about?” The visitor asked, re-entering the room. He was dripping wet a bit still, but wearing flannel pyjamas as he padded about their floors. 

“The stupid Hamlet thing,” Tom had moaned about it at dinner, but Ellie had insisted he give it a reprieve until after, hoping it would clear up his feelings and get him proper motivated. Obviously, those hopes were now dashed. “In order to make sure I pass, I have to perform a monologue.”

“Which one?” Hardy sat down next to them at the kitchen table. 

“Ah...” He dug around through his notes. “Act Three, Scene 3, lines 73 through 97.” 

“And which one is that?” 

Tom folded open his book to the page, and Hardy skimmed it over. “What are you on about? That’s a great scene.”

“It’s boring as hell.”

“Oi, watch it,” Ellie halfheartedly berated, trying to clean carrot gunk out of Fred’s hair. “Sorry, Hardy, he has a point. The tragedies are like wading through mud.” 

The grump rolled his eyes, “It’s a seminal work. And that is a fantastic monologue.”

“If it’s so great, can you help him with it? I can’t keep my bloody eyes open. Plus, Fred needs a bath.” She tickled his little pudgy tummy, causing her boy to shriek a giggle.

“Ya, glad to, by the time I’m done, you’ll be Henry Irving.”

“Who?” Mother and son asked.

Hardy just sighed.

Later, Miller put Fred to bed and bounded downstairs, but stopped at the sound of vivacious, Brannagh-levels of _ Hamlet _ resuscitation.

“‘He took my father grossly, full of bread,/With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May’- What does that mean? ‘Flush as May’?”

“I guess it means lively? Like a full bloom of flowers, all big and obvious. He’s sayin’ that Hamlet’s father didn’t get a chance to repent his own sins, Claudius took that away from him.”

“Hmm.” 

At the sad tones in her son’s voice, Ellie’s body ached to go to him, but then he spoke up again. “So Hamlet wants to kill the man that killed his father?” 

“Yah, that’s how the play goes.” 

“He doesn’t, at the end of the monologue.” 

Hardy made some sort of grunt of agreement.

“Sometimes I wish my dad was dead.”

Ellie covered her mouth with her hand.

“I don’t want to kill him, but I can’t- I don’t like he’s just out there.”

“I get that, Tom, I do.”

“I _ hate _ how anxious he makes Mum. Sometimes I think she’s looking over her shoulder for him.”

“He won’t get to her, to any of you, I swear it,” His Scottish brogue was thicker than normal. 

Tears pooled in Ellie’s eyes and she haphazardly swiped at them. God, she hated crying.

“This monologue hurts, I hate that it was assigned,” Tom’s voice cracked a little. “I don’t want to avenge my dad.”

“This isn't you, it’s Hamlet. It’s just pretend,” He said. “Maybe I can go to class for you tomorrow with your mum and intimidate your teacher into getting you out of this assignment.”

“No, no, I want to do it, I can do it, it just... sucks a lot more than it should. I bet most kids aren’t crying over some bloody _ Hamlet._” 

“Eh, maybe, but everyone’s got something. C’mon, we’re halfway through, I told Miller I’d get you through this and damn if I’m letting her down.”

“I’ll tell her you swore at me.”

“I swore and you happened to be in the room,” Hardy avoided, and she smiled wetly at the sound of their chuckles. She thought about going back in, but decided to leave them to it. Besides, she needed to give the sleeping Fred a hug.

Later, she made them tea and brought it in. “How’s it going, thespians?”

“I’ve almost got it all memorized,” Tom said, a tired smile gracing his face. “Hardy’s real good at this stuff.”

“I’m just a fan of Brannagh,” The man shrugged off the compliment like water off a duck. “Your son, though, he could be an actor.”

“For my sake, though, please do a funny one next,” She kissed him on the top of his head. She was able to hold the kiss for a full second before he ducked away, mumbling about how embarrassing it was, even with the one other witness. 

She stuck with them for the rest of the night, feeding lines as they decided to do a Hamlet-off, see who could do the monologue line after line. It was nearing midnight before Tom had it memorized, and she sent him off to bed so he could give a rejuvenated performance.

“Thank you,” She said. “Guess I owe you another favor.” 

“I’d say ‘don’t mention it,’ because I did have fun, but you’re right,” He said, with a slight twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “I also prefer the funny ones.” 

+

_ I know it's not my place _

When he and Daisy moved to Broadchurch for the summer, Alec Hardy wasn’t expecting to find his life intertwined with Miller and her sons. But that ended up being the case. After being gone from him so long, Daisy was excited to explore the seaside town.

He was just glad they had built-in tour guides. Miller knew the history of _ everything _Broadchurch and Tom was always willing to play games, show her the arcade or play football, and Fred was just easy to entertain and was happy to explore. It was a fun group.

They even got together with the Latimers a few times, but that was still a bit awkward, at least on his end. But he wasn’t sure how much of that was his fault in his bad social graces versus how they reacted to him. At least Chloe and Daisy got along.

The big news of the summer, though, _ wasn’t _ the Worst Cop in Britain’s return nor was it the fact he came bearing a teenage daughter. It was the impending nuptials of Maggie Radcliffe and Jocelyn Knight. It was apparently going to be a winter soiree, but Maggie wanted “a big to-do” and they were planning an engagement party for the summer, and most of the town of Broadchurch was invited.

Daisy was absolutely ecstatic.

“A party! Finally, I was going insane,” She said. “Can we go up to London to get a new dress?”

“What about all the dresses ya packed?”

She gave him a look like he’d gone absolutely daft. 

“Of course, I need a new dress, don’t be ridiculous. Actually, two, one for the wedding also.”

And apparently that was the discussion.

Later, he and Miller were cleaning up after making build your own pizzas, which lead to a massive food fight started by Fred but exacerbated by Daisy. “Remember how you still owe me a favor?” He asked as he wiped marinara sauce off the walls.

“I thought I paid that back by grabbing wine last week?”

“Well, I need a bigger one.”

“You have me intrigued, Hardy,” Miller said, scrubbing burnt cheese off the oven. "What is it then?"

“Daisy needs a dress for the rehearsal dinner next week.”

Miller snorted, “None of mine will fit her, cheers.”

“No, I- I don’t know how to shop for a teenage girl’s dress. I need to be there to make sure she doesn’t go over budget, but I have no idea what to look for. Please, ya got to help me.”

“No girl wants to buy a dress by committee,” She shook her head. “Less people, the better.”

“She likes you, you know that,” He pressed. “Please, Miller.”

“Of course, I’ll go. Where are we going?”

“Aren’t we just gonna pop to the shops?”

She gave him a look that oozed pity, and it almost made him laugh. “You sweet dumbarse, no. We have to go to Southampton. London, preferably, but I don’t want to be away from the boys that long.”

“They’re not coming with?” His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Tom will be bored brainless and Fred will destroy all the dresses,” She dismissed. “I’ll leave them with Beth, she owes me after I gave her all of Fred’s old nursery gear.” 

“I guess it’s settled then,” He said, his voice a bit high. He knew most of this was his own idea, but he couldn’t escape the feeling he was being duped.

Later, after leaving Tom and Fred with the Latimers, Hardy, Miller and Daisy drove up to Southampton. The went to a couple different shopping centres, but found one that had things in their price range that weren’t “hopeless hideous,” both Miller’s and Daisy’s words.

They entered the department store, and Hardy immediately felt out of his element. Meanwhile, Miller looked a bit giddy.

“I haven’t had a shopping spree in such a long time,” She clapped her hands together, one of her big smiles on her face. He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“C’mon, you two, all the good dresses will be gone,” Daisy doubled back to tug them both through the shops to the youth sections.

“Oh no,” Hardy faked a gasp, causing Miller to laugh. 

Hardy wasn’t laughing, though, at all the extensive dress options. Colors like a Benetton advert, so much fabric or not enough, and the prices. He nearly had another episode.

“If we want to do this methodically,” Miller said, not looking deterred in the slightest. “We should probably set some ground rules. Daisy, what are your rules?”

“No sleeveless or strapless,” She scrunched up her nose, while Hardy sagged in relief. “And nothing with an open back. And no white or yellow, I hate wearing yellow.”

“Why no white?”

Both ladies gave him a look. “You don’t wear white to wedding events unless you're a bride,” Miller said obviously. “It’s tacky.” 

“Forgive him, Ellie, he’s fashion challenged,” Daisy dismissed.

“We can find him a new suit to wear.”

Hardy nipped that in the bud right quick. “Nope, I am perfectly happy in my suits, thanks.”

“Oh yes, you’re positively _ beaming_,” Ellie mocked, causing Daisy to laugh. “Any other rules, dear?”

“I guess that’s it. Da, do you have any?”

Hardy tried to toe the line between _ responsible _ and _ hardass_. “I like your rules, and nothing over 150 pounds for each dress.”

“We can work with that-” Miller started but Daisy interrupted.

“What are your rules, Ellie? You’ve been to more engagement parties than I have.”

His partner rolled her eyes so hard he was afraid they were about to pop out, “Yes, more than I ever need to, except this one I’m thrilled about. The past ones, your goal is to just never outshine the bride. Or brides, in this case. I assume they’ll be a bit more understated, especially since they stressed it’s casual. But that works due to our constrictive budget.”

“How is a hundred and fifty pounds constrictive?” Hardy demanded.

Neither woman deigned to respond. Miller looped an arm through Daisy’s, “Come on, Daisy, let’s find you dresses.”

Instead of two dresses, they found ten. “You lot are going to empty my bloody bank account,” He sent his eyes skyward. 

“We’re going to buy _ two, _probably,” Miller defended. “We need to see if they fit.”

“I’m not a bloody mannequin, Dad,” Daisy rolled her eyes. 

Hardy sighed and found the “boyfriend chair” in the corner. Miller stayed in the fitting rooms with Daisy.

The first two dresses were dismissed without them even stepping out to show them off, he heard Miller mumble about the “colors being off” and the “slit too high.” Thank god, she was there to stop her from buying a dress with a “too high slit” because if he tried to stop that, he’d get stuck in a mighty strop. 

The next three dresses had nice fits, but a bit high in price. One, the fourth one, was a soft pink and Daisy looked like a grown woman in it, and it made him swallow. But he kept his mouth shut as Miller and Daisy talked through each one. 

Hardy fiddled with his phone as he waited for the seventh dress. He near prayed for a body to drop so this hell could be over, but then he heard Miller gasp.

“Oh, Daisy, you look lovely,” Her voice was soft, and he straightened in the stupid, uncomfortable chair.

Daisy stepped out of the fitting room, wearing a pale blue dress with lace across the hem. It went to her knees, and had long lace sleeves. Daisy beamed in it.

Hardy found himself near choked. “You look beautiful.”

Daisy smiled at him and said, “Don’t be soppy, I can’t handle that.”

“I’m not crying, be quiet,” He said. “I think that’s the one.”

“Do I need to try on the others?”

He didn’t know if he could handle that.

Thankfully, Miller shook her head, “Nope, that one’s perfect. Looks bloody brilliant with your hair and complexion. We’ll do this one, and that pink one for the rehearsal Plus, the shoes-”

Hardy kicked his head back and groaned. Again, luck of the devil was on his side as Daisy shook her head. “No, no shoe shopping, I have perfectly good flats.”

“You Hardys are no fun,” Miller griped, pouting. 

“Luckily, now it’s your turn,” Daisy grinned. “Come, I’ll get back in my clothes, and we can find your dress.”

“Oh, no-no-no, I’ll just wear a blouse and trousers-”

“Nope, unacceptable,” Daisy tugged her back in. “Dad, you go to the food court or something.”

“What? Why?”

“It needs to be a surprise!”

“Why?” Both he and Ellie demanded.

“Don’t question me,” Daisy said, shutting the fitting room door.

“Fine, text me when you’re done,” Hardy said, leaving and muttering to himself about the daft birds he’s stuck with.

Later, _ much _ later, Hardy walked around the ground floor with a popsicle, the only food that wouldn’t trigger a heart attack in that god forsaken food court, and he was saving it for Daisy’s bill. Later, he got a text to meet them back in the store.

The two women were laughing, carrying bags from the shop. “Good haul?”

“Under budget,” Daisy added. “Plus, Ellie will look amazing.”

“Oh, hush,” Ellie swatted at her shoulder lightly. “Come, let’s get back to Broadchurch, I’m sure my boys are driving Beth up the wall.”

As Daisy listened to music in the backseat and Miller drove, Hardy took the time to say, “Thank you, for keeping her company and offering all that lady advice.”

“It was your chit,” Miller said, eyes on the road but a smile on her face. “Always happy to spend some girl time with Daisy. You got a really great girl.”

Hardy smiled to himself, “I know it.” He paused. “Do I get to see your dress?”

“She made me swear a blood oath, no seeing it until the engagement party, for whatever reason.”

“Aye, she’s a wild one,” He said, then paused. “A ‘blood oath’?”

Miller just laughed. Maybe he ought to keep Daisy and her a part for a bit.

Then he thought of their laughing faces, and thought better of it.

+

_ Filled up with all the skeletons she's kept _

Ellie Miller was a bit surprised when Hardy decided to extend his stay in Broadchurch until Christmas hols. But she, actually, wasn’t complaining. Which was probably the most shocking part of the whole thing.

Tom liked having him around. She was glad he had a strong, male figure in his life. And Fred absolutely adored him, and his accent. He tried to mimic it all through the day, developing a twang of his own. 

Plus, for her own sake, she was actually used to the grumpy bastard being in her life. She actually had been dreading the date on her calendar that was going to be his original exit. 

She knew he missed Daisy, but Tom had helped him figure out FaceTime and that made the ache easier. Plus, Daisy was going to spend Christmas with them, and a few weekends over the school year. 

As school started back up again for the boys, even wee Fred in pre school. To save them the ache, she had started them in school a county over. It was a longer commute, but they all seemed happier with it. Tom was making friends, and starting offense on the football team for his year. Plus, he and Daisy texted all the time, memes she didn’t understand. 

And Fred seemed happy, liking eating paste from a bit farther from home. And she was happy with the arrangement until she saw his primary school’s new assignment.

Bring Your Father to School Day.

After putting Fred for a nap, she had a complete and utter panic attack. She locked herself in her loo and didn’t leave. She didn’t answer her phone. She just cried. 

If she were paying attention, she would have heard the front door break down. And she would have heard Tom bounding up the stairs to Fred’s room, and his exhale in relief when the toddler was just jostled from his nap. She would have heard Hardy tell Tom to head to the beach for a bit, and to keep his mobile available.

She did hear a sharp rapping of a knock against the door, distracting her from her tears.

“Millarh?” Hardy’s familiar accent seemed a lot stronger. “Are you hurt in there?”

“No,” She said, wiping at her face. 

“Can you let me in?”

“No.”

She heard his sigh. And then she heard him settle to the floor. 

“I sent the boys out. They’re safe. You can tell me anything.”

She didn’t say anything for a bit. She just focused on controlling her breathing. 

“Bring your father to School day,” She said after silence.

“What?”

She forced the words louder, “Next week- F-for Fred, is Bring Your Father to School Day.” 

Ellie couldn’t see Hardy’s reaction, and for that she was grateful. “Oh.”

The tears started up again. “Fuckin’ Oh.” 

He didn’t respond, and she coughed out a weak laugh, “What the hell am I supposed to do, Alec? What do I say? Do I lie, say he’s dead? Do I go instead and deal with the stares? The kids aren’t going to be the only ones with questions, their bloody parents and their judgmental stares. It wouldn't take 'em more than a Google to figure it out.” 

“Let me in, Miller.”

Tears fell down her face, but she forced herself to stand on wobbly legs. She unlocked the door. 

Within an instant, Hardy had her wrapped in a hug.

“Don’t-”

“Shut up,” He said. His brusque words helped and she let herself cry into his suit jacket. They moved to the tile floor, and he let her cry.

“What do I do?” She asked when the tears stopped coming.

“I see a few options,” He said, not complaining about her blowing her nose into his lapel. “You can call him out sick that day. You can tell the teacher, discreetly, of the circumstances. You can say ‘fuck it’ and go yourself. Or...”

She didn’t particularly like any of those, as valid as they were. “Or what?” She prompted.

“I can go. As Fred’s dad.” 

Ellie tilted her head up to him. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You aren’t, I’m offering,” He said. “You know I adore Fred, and I think he likes me.”

“He likes your accent,” She offered a watery smile. 

“And I’ll have it out in full Scottish force if I go with ‘im.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you not want me to?”

She turned her head to rest against his shoulder and heaved a sigh. “I would really appreciate it, it’d save me so many questions. As long as you’re okay with those parents having that assumption.”

“Fuck ‘em,” He said. “I just want to make sure you’re awright.”

She didn’t smile, but she didn’t cry. “I will be.”

“Come, let’s go fetch the boys at the beach and get ice cream for dinner, and we’ll figure it all out.”

That sounded lovely. So she said so.

That next week, Alec Hardy took Fred Miller to “Take Your Father to School Day” in a kilt, and turned the accent up to eleven. The kids, apparently, loved it. And Fred couldn’t stop gushing about it all the way home. It felt like a weight dropped from her shoulders.

As they shared a glass of wine on her stoop, as both kids were in bed, she said, “I guess I owe you another one.”

“Nah,” He said, smirking into his glass. “I always appreciate an excuse to whip out the kilt. But if you want to do me a favor...” He trailed off, then looked up at her. “You can dry clean that suit you sneezed on.”

“I improved it,” She huffed. But, because she really did owe him, had it dry cleaned at the nice dry cleaner’s in the next county over. 

+

_ Nobody's perfect I confess _

Hardy debated whipping out his badge, or screaming, or setting the shitty blue house on fire. But none of those would help.

They wanted to kick him out, and since his lease had shifted since he decided to extend, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. 

Christ, he’d have to _ pack _ and _ box things _ and move. He hated the entire fucking process, and he’d have to do it again. 

He debated even reaching out to Jocelyn to see if she could maybe litigate him into staying, but he didn’t want to waste her efforts.

He went over to Miller’s house in a funk. 

“Oh, you’re in more of a mood than usual,” Miller’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of him. 

He muttered something at her, but honestly he couldn’t even decipher his own words. He just sulked on the sofa.

“What’s up with Alec?” Tom asked.

“I think he’s in a mood,” Ellie whispered loudly. She sighed and plopped next to him. “You awright?”

“The landlord’s kicking me out.”

Ellie gasped, “No! They can’t do that.”

“They apparently can,” He huffed. “I’m homeless in two weeks.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” She shoved his shoulder. “Just stay with us until you find a place.”

He shook his head, “No, I can’t put you out-”

“I’m _ asking_,” She snapped. “Now be nice and say yes.”

“At least ask your boys if it’s okay,” He turned to the doorway. 

Tom was texting, probably, in the kitchen. “Fine with me!” He called over. 

Fred barreled into the room and jumped into his lap. “Awec!” 

“I think that makes it unanimous,” Ellie gave him a kick with her socked foot. “We’ll figure it out.”

And so they did.

That next weekend, Daisy was visiting. So they ordered pizzas and packed up the entire little house. Tom and Daisy had fun going through the family photos. Fred had a blast with the bubble wrap. Ellie and Hardy were methodical in figuring out where case files should be stored and where to fit Hardy, and Hardy and Daisy occasionally, in the Miller house. 

When it was all in boxes, they ate the pizza on the floor. Hardy sat himself against the wall, Daisy resting her head on her thigh as she listened to music and texted her friends from school. Tom was in a similar state with his own headphones and friends, sitting against the opposite wall. But he had his back to the floor, and his feet kicked onto the wallpaper. Fred slept in Ellie’s lap as she ate his leftover pizza crust.

“You sure it’s not an intrusion, Miller? Don’t do me any favors.”

“Do _ you _ a favor?” She snorted. “What have I been doin’ for the past year?” 

“I can’t pay you back for this,” He said. “You’re seriously saving my arse.”

“Oh, the favors I could ask for,” She shimmied with relish, sending him a wicked grin, before it fell to a soft, genuine smile. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re a friend, Alec. I’m happy to help. No favors needed in return.”

“But then what is our friendship based on,” He faked outrage, causing them both to chuckle. 

“Do you think we’ll kill each other?” She asked thoughtfully.

“We might, but we couldn’t.”

“How so?”

“Who would solve the crime?” 

Her barking laugh woke Fred, so they all decided to walk through the fields to work off the pizza, and then stare up at the stars for a bit before they all decided to head back to the new Miller-Hardy house for sleep.

But then they had the distinct pleasure (read: annoyance) of figuring out where to place him in that house on a semi-permanent basis. 

They decided to use the ground floor office and convert it into a room. It took some room darkening curtains and shoving his mattress through a very tiny door, but it worked. And when Daisy would visit for her mandated weekends, she would take the office and he would take the couch. 

One day, about a week into him living with the Millers, he got a text from Tess. He responded promptly, and instead of sending another text, she called him. 

“‘Lo, Tess,” He greeted, swiping his hand over his face. He wasn’t sure if he was emotionally prepared to deal with his ex-wife in that moment, they were hunting down a serial burglar and it was taking its toll. But he couldn’t very well put it off.

“So what’s this I hear about you living in Broadchurch with that eager little detective of yours?” Her voice managed to be a coo and also an indictment in one tone.

“You mean Miller?” He clarified.

“Of course,” She scoffed. “I thought you hated Broadchurch.”

He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “It’s grown on me.” 

“And you’re really shacking up with that Miller?”

“Aye, yeah, I got kicked out of the place I was in.”

“Are you two dating?”

He sighed, “I fail to see how it’s any of your business, but your concern is touching.”

“Don’t be cruel, Alec.” He hated how she said his name. “How is this supposed to affect Daisy?”

“Daisy likes Ellie and her sons, ask her yourself,” He said. He’d even double checked with her before they moved in. She was actually excited for him, glad “there’d be someone to take care of you” when she was away. “Besides, we aren’t dating.” 

“That’s not what Daisy said.”

“She was probably just takin’ the piss,” He yawned. “I have a case, Tess. Cheers.” 

And the dial tone cut off whatever rant she was about to go off.

“What was that about?” Miller asked, peeking in.

He shrugged, “Nothing. Who’s turn is it to make dinner?” 

She made a face. “It’s mine.”

“Good luck, I’m just going to go over these notes.”

She smacked him on the head with a rolled-up copy of the _ Echo. _ “You have one hour and then I’m pulling you away from the work.”

He yawned again, “Fine with me.” And he settled back into it as the sounds of Ellie humming and Fred babbling left the room.

+

_ She's got her secrets_

It was weird to her that their favors started big, then became small. It went from asking him to talk to her eldest son about pornography to her asking him to pick up vegetables on the way home. To him remembering her brand of toothpaste, and her remembering what he ordered at Trader’s on the rare nights they went into town so he didn’t have to talk to the wait staff. He would pick up Tom from football practice, and she’d pick Daisy up from the train station. If he was working too hard, she’d pull him up from drowning in work. If she was falling into a Joe-related anxiety, he caught her. 

It wasn’t perfect, and they’d yell and snipe at each other. But nothing anything to really score their souls. Just banter and frustration. They worked past it.

And they worked together. The load she felt when Joe disappeared started to ease. She saw the tension fade from Hardy too. His eyes were brighter, and the bags were less sullen. He still was an overachieving bastard, but at least he was healthier about it. 

But sometimes he wasn’t healthy. She’d had to drag him, kicking and screaming like a tetchy toddler, from cases. 

And one night, an unforgettable one, when she heard him choking from a nightmare. No favor needed, even exhausted as all get out, she stayed with him the rest of the night, and the two played cards until the sun rose. She wished she could have offered something better, but at least at the end he still said, “Ta, El.”

Then the wedding invites came. One for each member of the Miller brood and the Hardy clan.

“Ugh,” The two groaned in unison as they opened them up. “‘You and a plus one,’” Ellie threw in a gag to be dramatic. 

Other than those offending words, the invitations for Maggie and Jocelyn’s wedding were lovely. Flowing script, simple, radiating with love. 

“Remind me why we’re going,” Hardy said, sprawled across the sofa. “Besides, of course, supporting the happy couple because I don’t feel all to altruistic.” 

“So Dais can show off her new dress,” Miller said. “Oh, and I suppose me too.”

Alec turned on his side to look up at her, “Still unaware as to what this mystery dress is.”

“I guess that’s incentive for you, but what’s _ my _ incentive? I get all the pitying looks and the creepy drunk men.” She shuddered. “Before, I had a date to save me those damn looks and now I have to go bloody single.” 

Hardy snorted, “Yeah, wedding’s aren’t my cup of tea. I didn’t go to any without Tess, but I can’t imagine it’ll be a walk in the park alone.”

She paused. “Wait, you’ll be going alone.”

“Yes, ha’n’t I made that obvious?”

“And I’m going alone.”

“And you call yourself a detective.”

“We can go together,” She said, finally perking up. “We can make fun of all the silliness, keep the kids in line, and protect each other from flirty drunks.”

“Oh god,” He sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Please!” She sat next to him, near desperate. “My sister’s gonna play matchmaker, and I’ll need you to stop me from killing her. Please, it can be my favor. You still owe me for the house.” 

He groaned, a deep Scottish sound, but nodded. “Are you serious?”

“It won’t be a date or anything,” She was quick to reassure. “But at least we can sit with each other and not the singles’ table.”

“What’s a singles’ table?”

She sighed, “See, I’m saving you. You don’t want to suffer it, it’s atrocious.”

She thought of the engagement party, dancing with her kids and Daisy and even Hardy one go around. She liked her simple, understated navy dress, but she was a bit hesitant to wear the one Daisy picked for the wedding. It was, as the girl said, a “knockout.” 

“Are we doing each other a favor for this, or am I doing one for you?”

“Ugh, enough with the bloody favors,” She whined. “Just attend the stupid wedding with me so I don’t go bonkers.”

“Fine, then it’s a favor for you,” He said with a smirk.

She threw a manila folder, whipping it at the back of his head, and cackled at the direct hit.

+

_ yeah I've got mine too _

Before Christmas, some of the local counties wanted to throw a police officers’ ball to celebrate the work of all the detectives in the area. Alec Hardy didn’t want to attend, but as Detective Inspector, it was mandatory. 

As practice for the upcoming nuptials in January, he begged and used a chit to get Miller to come with him. She didn’t wear her fancy new dress he still hadn’t seen, but instead wore the blue one she wore to the rehearsal dinner. She looked lovely.

“Damn spanx,” She would mutter near him, causing him to smirk. Even with all that, still lovely.

The boys were off with the Latimers, and Daisy was off with Tess on a short holiday. So it was just them in a stuffy, cop event.

“This is ridiculous, and there’s not nearly enough booze here.”

“Cash bar,” He said.

She rolled her eyes. “Why did you drag me to this?”

“So I wouldn’t suffer alone.”

“You owe me,” She said, adjusting her earrings. “Ugh, I see Dirty Brian by the bar. And I so wanted a drink.” 

“I’ll fetch you one, just find our table, I think they have assigned seating,” He said.

“Fine,” She said. “Better make it two drinks,” She added before parting. 

With a chuckle, he went off to the bar, and deftly avoided eye contact to deter conversation, unless it was with the bartender who looked just as miserable at having to be there. Just as he was grabbing his and Miller’s drinks, someone snatched one from his grip.

He turned and saw a woman in a bright red dress giving him bedroom eyes as she sipped from _ Ellie’s _glass. 

“Hi there, handsome,” She leaned in.

He leaned back, “Heyo, there.”

“What’s your name, I feel like I’ve seen you around before.”

He sighed, “Alec Hardy.”

She pondered. “Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. I’m Nancy.”

“Nice to meet you. Now, excuse me.”

“Don’t run away so fast, we’re just getting to know each other,” She smiled, but it was sharp. Against all instincts, he stayed in his place. “I’m a dispatcher up in Bristol.”

“I’m a DI in Dorset,” He shifted. God, he hated small talk. 

“Fascinating,” She purred. “What are you doing after this?”

“I-” He stammered, looking around for an exit strategy. He locked eyes with Miller, who pointed at her wrist’s imaginary watch to ask what was taking so long. “Ellie!” He called over. “I’ll be with Ellie.” 

“Who?” Nancy raised an eyebrow.

Ellie, hearing her name practically squawked in the hall, walked over. “What’s going on here?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. On any other night, she would have smacked his arm away, he assumed, but tonight she stayed close. 

“I was just talking to Nancy about _ our _plans after the event,” He said, trying to be subtle. 

Ellie gave him a look before catching on. “Oh- _ oh _ yes, well, quite. We’ll be heading back early to check on our kids, I assume.”

Even though it was his idea, he had to bite back shock at the idea of Daisy, Tom and Fred being lumped in one group suddenly as _ our kids. _

“You’re together?” The woman said, not without a slight sneer. 

“Indeed,” Hardy was quick to say. “Now pardon me, I need to get her another drink.”

“Yes, you do,” Ellie said, squeezing his arm with her nails as a bit of a warning as she and Nancy thankfully left him alone. He turned back to the bar, grabbed another wine, went back to her table. 

“What the hell was that?”

“I panicked,” He explained. “I’m sorry, she got me all flabbergasted.”

She rolled her eyes as she sipped her wine, “Alec, you’re an attractive man. You’re going to have to get used to women chatting you up.” 

“Nah, why would I when I have you to protect me,” He said. Then paused. “Oi, you think I’m attractive?”

She scowled as a blush seemed to climb her cheeks. “Shut up.”

+

_ I don't care about what you did _

On a beautiful day in January, Maggie and Jocelyn got married. The wedding was simple and understated, officiated by Paul Coates. 

Ellie Miller cried a little, holding her youngest son in her lap. On her left, her eldest son sat, smiling a little at all the joy in the room. On her right, Alec Hardy sat next to her, himself sandwiched between Ellie and his daughter.

The spanx pushed at her gut, and chafed at her legs, but it was honestly worth it for the dress. Wine purple with a glittering bodice that accentuated her breast, and a long skirt. She felt beautiful, it had been a long time since she’d felt that way.

Alec cleaned up nicely as well. He’d shaved for the event, at Daisy’s insistence, and it made him look years younger. He was wearing a new suit, a soft slate grey that looked nice right next to her purple dress.

As the two brides kissed, the crowd erupted in cheers, and moved their way to Jocelyn’s house, which had been converted to a grand, bridal celebration hall for the reception. 

A live band played, there was a full-service bar, and Olly was even there to ride herd on the kids because he “owed Maggie.” The food was delicious, the decorations were tasteful, and Maggie and Jocelyn looked absolutely radiant. 

If she looked to her right, she could see the dance floor. On it, Daisy and Tom swung Fred around, she could hear the three of them laughing. On her left, Maggie and Jocelyn greeted their friends in acknowledgment. She should go over to sneak them some food. She remembered on her wedding, all she wanted to do was eat and all people wanted to do was take up her bloody time talking to her.

With a smile, the thought of her wedding to Joe did not send her into a debilitating panic attack. It felt like a distant memory, like a foundation that built to the person she had become, but no longer a piece of her. 

“I’m glad I’m stuck at this with you, Ellie,” He said, sipping at his whiskey at their assigned seats at the couples’ table.

She hadn’t been paying attention, really, staring at their kids, but then she noticed something that had yet to hit her until that moment.

He’d been calling her Miller less and less, favoring Ellie instead.

She swallowed as she stared at him, and something twitched in her gut. Like a light switch clicking on.

“You alright?” He cocked his head at her as the song shifted to a slow song. 

“I’m fine,” She said, then shoved to stand. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance with me,” She repeated, holding out her hand.

“I don’t remember that as being part of the initial favor-”

“Shut up,” She said without heat and tugged on his hand. With a light groan, she pulled him up and lead him to the dance floor. 

Ellie put her hands on Alec’s shoulders, and he put his hands on her waist. They were almost so far apart to look like the middle schoolers at the dance she’d chaperoned of Tom’s, so she stepped a bit closer as more people flooded the little patch in the center of the room.

“Why are we doing this?”

“I dunno,” She said honestly. “I like the song. And you are my date. I feel a dance is fair here.”

“I suppose,” He said, heavy, but he didn’t look like he was suffering. Every time his hands adjusted, she could feel it through the dress, almost heated. He was so warm against her. “I’m happy Maggie and Jocelyn sorted it out.”

“Me too,” She agreed as she swayed. His hand moved a centimetre closer to her back. “I like your face.”

“Excuse me?” He pulled back slightly.

“Without the beard,” She was quick to clarify. “It’s a good face, unobscured.”

He twitched his lips around, as if adjusting his jaw. She had never really noticed his lips before. Slightly pink, thin but soft. “Aye, thanks, but I feel a bit naked without it.”

She shrugged, “I like it.”

“You know, this is the second time in as many months you called me attractive.”

“What are you on about?”

“First at that ball, and now here.”

She scoffed, but did not move away. “The first was a reprimand about your shite people skills, and this was just a casual observation.”

“Just admit it, El, you think I’m fit,” He grinned. 

“That whiskey’s hitting you harder than it oughta.”

He tapped his finger against her back, “Just admit it.”

She thought about it. She thought about everything, the entire past year, as he held her. “Alright, I’ll admit it.”

His eyes went wide, not expecting her sudden, serious demeanor. “Oh.”

“Since I did, I have another favor to ask.”

“Name it,” He said without hesitation.

She was almost afraid to, but the little sherry in her gut and the warmth from the wedding swirled to make her brave. “Will you kiss me?” 

The lips disappeared as he pursed them. “Do you really want me to do that?”

“I do,” She said boldly, straightening her shoulders. “But only if you want to.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but she still felt brave.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the bravery fled as quickly as it flooded her. She ducked her chin and moved her hands from his shoulders, but then his grip on her waist tightened. 

“Ellie,” He said her name like it was a plea. And she didn’t know what that meant.

Until he leaned down and kissed her, right on the dance floor.

+

_ Only care about what we do _

It had been two years since they started doing favors for each other. And a year since they kissed at Jocelyn and Maggie’s wedding. 

Hardy had moved out of the office into Ellie’s bedroom. Daisy was spending that school year with them in Broadchurch at Tom’s secondary school. Tess wasn’t happy with that idea, but she had to deal with it because Daisy wanted to spend time with her dad, which filled him with utter warmth.

To his shock, the kids were fine with the new development. Daisy was very pro it, even smacking him on the shoulder at the reception to say “finally” and Tom just made him promise to never hurt his mum (what a great kid). And Fred immediately took to calling him Dawec, a weird portmanteau of Da and Alec. 

One day, about eight months into their dating, he’d realized they’d reached it. They were completely comfortable with each other. They knew all their secrets, fears, hopes, and wishes. It first made him feel naked and exposed, but soon he embraced it, because he knew she’d keep him safe, because he would do the same to her.

And things weren’t perfect. He still worked too hard, and she tried too hard that things were fine when they weren’t. Tom and Daisy fought, as teenagers are wont to do, and Fred was figuring himself out.

But he wanted them all together, forever, or as long as Ellie would have him. 

So he asked her to marry him.

She laughed. Not a _ aren’t you stupid _ laugh but a giggle of surprise. “What?” She asked, putting her earrings in as they readied for work.

“What do you think about marrying me?”

The smile fell off her face. “I didn’t think we were gonna do that.”

“Why not?”

“We’re both divorced, Alec. We’re in our forties, we have kids.”

“People in our situation get married all the time, El.”

“_No one _ is in our situation,” She said firmly. 

And it clicked.

“Miller, I swear to God, if you’re going off about being tainted again-”

She cut him off. “No, no...” He just gave her a stern look, and she cracked. “Ugh, _ yes_, a bit. It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think?” He asked. Before she could say, he said first, “Because I think you’re a beautiful, brilliant woman with two great kids that I would love to protect as my own for the rest of my life. Isn’t that what marriage is?”

“It wasn’t, for me,” She said, seemingly unable to look him in the eye. “I don’t know if I could do this again.”

He felt something clutch at his throat. “I’m not Joe.”

“I know that,” She put a hand on his chest. Sometimes, he wondered if she did that to keep his heart from exploding from his ribs. She probably could, she was that determined. “I’m sorry, truly, Alec, but I don’t think I can do it again. It’s not you, it’s all the fucked up baggage I have. Doesn’t this, us right now, work for you?”

“It does,” He admitted. But he pressed on. “Don’t you want more?”

She sniffled, and he hated to his bones that he made her cry. “Alec,” She straightened herself. “I love you, you know that.” He did, they’d said it, but it still didn’t quite feel real. “But I don’t know if I can offer that again.” 

He nodded in understanding, and kissed her cheek. She kissed him on his lips, a sturdy kiss that begged for an anchor for the both of them.

They head off to work. And that was the discussion. For then.

And it continued to eat at him, and he knew he had to do something. So he planned, and organized, and tried to be a damn romantic.

One day, for once in his adult life, he took work off early and went home to kick his plan into action.

When Ellie Miller came home from work, she was calling for all the kids. It was only when she hung up her ugly orange coat and turned around did she notice Alec Hardy, one on knee, holding out a diamond ring.

She stammered, “Alec-”

“I sent the kids off to Lucy’s, and it’s just us. No surprises, no crowds, just you and me. Because I’ll understand if you say no, Ellie, and I won’t put that pressure of a crowd on you. So it’s just me, a ring, and you, and our kids a couple miles away, and our lives forever intertwined. I’m asking you properly. Will you marry me?”

“Alec-”

“Before you answer,” He held up a finger. “I’ll take your baggage, love. I’ll take it, and Tom’s and Fred’s. And all I ask is you take mine and Daisy’s. I’m still the worst cop in Britain-”

“Oh, Alec-” She sighed.

But he pressed on, “And I have a shit heart with a pacemaker and I work too hard and I don’t know how to use my phone, but I know you love me anyway. I don’t need you to prove it, but I- I guess I’m asking you to. As a favor.” He stammered the last word out.

He watched, aching with a yearning love, as silent tears fell down her face. 

“You idiot,” She sobbed, and fell down to her own knees as she wrapped her arms around him, nearly knocking them over with the force of her hug. “A bloody favor, you- Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

He pulled back a bit to push unruly curls out of her eyes. “Really?” 

“Yes, you sod, really,” She kissed him, deep and true. “I can’t believe it,” She smiled and said the words in a hush.

He smiled back, and held her, on the floor of their home, until she believed it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an utter mess and i need to edit it, but i just needed at ShirleyAnn66 to understand how much their fic meant to me so I made them this token.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of the fic, thank you so much for reading! I'm on tumbler [@gayrefrain](http://gayrefrain.tumblr.com/)


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